


Beside Me

by MissBlissWrites



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Suicide, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17964425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBlissWrites/pseuds/MissBlissWrites
Summary: You could remember the warm spring you first found this little hidden pathway. You smiled as the memory flooded your mind. You rode on your horse, side by side with a man you loved more than anything else in this awful, evil world. The two of you talked on and off about this and that, chuckling at any jokes that passed between the two of you.His name was Arthur. Arthur Morgan, a man truly of the west. He may have sung little songs calling you the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He’d sing that song, “Still I love my faithless Flora, the Lily of the West.” Every time he mumbled the little tune, you’d smile and blush like a school girl. He was so sweet, and so very sweet on you. You missed the sound of his voice the most.





	Beside Me

**Author's Note:**

> An anon requested this on tumblr! They asked: "33 tragic keepsake?? Make it as angsty as you can, with Arthur please and thank you. I love your writing!! I want to feel the pain with this one!!"
> 
> This is super... like... angsty and sad. Mentions of suicide so be careful if you are uncomfortable with this kind of topic.

It was like walking on ice the whole time. Each little step was on your tiptoes, trying not to disturb the world around you. This journey was so hard. It always was. Every year on the same day you’d make sure to take the long walk up the mountainside. You chose the more scenic path because you had so many memories attached to the trail hidden by trees. A cough escaped your lips as you tracked on.

You could remember the warm spring you first found this little hidden pathway. You smiled as the memory flooded your mind. You rode on your horse, side by side with a man you loved more than anything else in this awful, evil world. The two of you talked on and off about this and that, chuckling at any jokes that passed between the two of you.

His name was Arthur. Arthur Morgan, a man truly of the west. He may have sung little songs calling you the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He’d sing that song,  _“Still I love my faithless Flora, the Lily of the West-”_ Every time he mumbled the little tune, you’d smile and blush like a school girl. He was so sweet, and so very sweet on you. You missed the sound of his voice the most. 

You took this path by foot now, not wanting to rush by on horseback. You’ve done for several years now. It had to… what? 20 years now? 25? You weren’t sure, really, and it didn’t matter how long it’d been either. It only mattered that you had to do this.

You looked at every little detail, how everything has changed, but it was still the same too. The forest looked as cluttered and deep as always and smelled of sweet wild lilac bushes. His favorite flower… He loved them and their pungent smell. Arthur would go wild for lilacs, and he’d simply just grab a bundle of flowers and stuff his face in them and take the deepest breath. He was such a silly man.

The forest slowly grew less and less as you ventured further up the mountainside. If you were lucky, you’d get there by sundown. The backpack you slugged around your back had everything you needed in it. It was heavy and made your back ache out in pain but you ignored it and went on.

Off the side of the trail, you noticed a familiar sight. A rock that was riddled with bullet holes and once was stained with blood. The memory came flooding in whether you wanted it too or not. You traced a hand lightly on your side through your shirt. The gunshot wonder always felt numb and sensitive at the same time. You nearly died there on that rock while Arthur rushed to murder and save your life simultaneously. What day that was. Despite the tragicness of it, you still smiled at that memory. 

Arthur had picked you up and carried you by foot for almost a mile before you found your horses again. They ran away in the commotion of the shoot out and they ran far. You were bleeding out on him as he carried you bridal style, “ _You’re a mess,”_ You told him,  _“I’m gonna die here and you’re going to be a mess,”_

 _“You ain’t gonna die”_ You could remember how his face twisted up when he said that.  _“You’ve made a mess of me before and this ain’t gonna be that last time. You got plenty more messes to make.”_

He was right. You lived, painfully so, but you lived and healed to see another day. You wished he was here, at the moment, right now as you left the forest for open rocky cliff sides. You were always afraid of heights, you use to hold tight to Arthur’s hand and clung tightly to his arm. You couldn’t stand seeing the drop, it caused you to go light headed and near piss yourself from the sheer fear of falling. You had to hold back a harsh cough while you carefully clung to the cliffside.

The sun was starting to set. You could see its slow descent into the hilly horizon it called its grave. The trip was already more than half done. You only had a bit left to go. You always loved sunsets, but your moved sunrises more. Just like Arthur.

The two of you had so much in common. It’s funny because it took years of fruitful friendship to finally say those three simple words of  _“I love you.”_

You could remember that do so clearly. The crip clean memory waved into your thoughts quickly. It was a cool summer morning further out west in the desert. You had woken up to a letter on the table beside your tent, asking you to meet someone somewhere far away. You knew the location, it was a small lake that went back and forth between full and empty with the rainy season. There was always a deep save system and waterfall that also came and went with the seasons. You went there, to the little lake, and found a camp set up just at the mouth of the caves. 

The remains of the spring rain trickled down in a small misty waterfall that never truly reach the lake’s surface, and rather just blew away in the wind. You found Arthur there, waiting for you. He seemed nervous and more of a mess than usual. You were both so young, and yet so old. Someplace in the middle of 23 and 28, after Arthur got over his heartbreak with Mary. You thought the two of you would always be friends, but he loved you, and he knew he hurt you choosing Mary over yourself. 

So he made it up to you in the best way he could. He got you alone, told you his feelings and waited for you to say something. When you returned his feelings, saying how much he meant to you, but how hard it was and how painful it was to be ignored and pushed aside for someone else. He admitted his wrongs, called himself a fool and bitterly laughed. He wanted to make it up to you so he made you an entire dinner over the fire and asked if he could give you something as a keepsake to always remember him buy. 

You remembered as you grew closer and closer to your destination, and lifted your hand to grasp the locket around your neck. How many years have you worn that thing? You were so god damn young, you didn’t have a clue..

That night long ago, Arthur gave you that locket. When he gave it to you, you expected there to be a picture of some kind it in, like most lockets. But there was no picture. It was a large but beautiful locket big enough to fit a small note in it, that when folded a hundred and ten times, could easily fit nice and snug inside.

There was also room for something else that you could hear even now clinking around in there as you walked your step cliffside path. You knew the note by heart. In your thoughts, you repeated it to yourself.

_(Y/N),_

_I’ve done you wrong, so many times. You’ve stuck with me since I could remember. For all those years we grew up together, I’m glad it was you. I wouldn’t have it any other way, or anyone else. I’d do it all again if it meant I got to be with you. I know many people have told you this before, but you beautiful, and in my eyes, you’re so simply perfect. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. The way your eyes light up when you see me, the way you laugh quietly at my boring jokes, the way you lean your head on my shoulder when we sit by the fire. You give me a comfort I never knew, and I don’t want to let that go. The last few months with you attached at my hip has honestly changed my world, I’m glad your there. I’m glad I can tell you about my day, about the things I do, the people I rob, the things I steal… The crimes I commit. As much as I hate it that is apart of me that is so hard to hide. I could never have that with anyone else but you… I have to say it. I love you. I really do. I love you and want to give you this note and this ring for the day I can finally call you mine, that is if you’ll have me because I certainly want to be yours._

The note had turned yellow after all these years, and some tears and holes had made their way into the delicate paper. The ring he gave you chimed inside the locket, ringing out slightly at each step you took. The sun was finally setting below the hills. You had made it in time to the familiar open cliffside.

It hurt. It hurt a lot and no matter how many times you looked at it, it was like the pain was as fresh and as new as the day it happened. Your old body had was crying out in pain from such a long walk with no rest at all. You were old enough to be someone grandma. Maybe even a great grandma. You were young and healthy anymore, your old and dying at your own pace. You wished it came a little sooner as you stared at the cross that marked the grave of the man you always loved. His grave was overrun with flowers, and lilacs of course, that you planted there yourself some odd decade ago.

“Hello, my darling,” You spoke quietly as you got down on your knees only a few inches away from his grave. You pressed a hand into the old aging wood, feeling the smoothness that weathering has caused. You missed him. So much, so fucking much. It hurt every second to be there.

He would have loved this spot, Charles did a good job of that. You fought back the tears and smiled, “Happy anniversary, Arthur,” You quickly wipped away a tear before it could fall, “I hope you’re doing well,” You reached for the chain of the locket, pulling it off your neck. You opened it up, the ring and note fell into your lap. You picked up the ring and put the note back where it belonged. 

“I’ve been holding onto this god damn ring for so long,” This wasn’t the ring he gave you that night in the desert. That ring was snug on your finger. The one you held now was Arthur’s matching wedding band to yours. You coughed a few times, feeling the sharp shooting pain cut open your lungs, “God damn you, Arthur. I loved you, I still love you. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

You knew damn well that this was going to be your last visit to Arthur, this going to be your last anything.

Your voice cracked while speaking to the grave, “You got me sick,” You whispered while place his wedding band into the dirt at the base of the cross, “I’m dying…” It felt so strange to finally admit it out loud, “I’m dying and I’m scared.”

Trying your best, you made your old body comfortable on the hard ground. You could remember that perfect day were you and Arthur eloped and certainly ran away for a month. Funny, because Arthur always gave John a hard time for leaving for so long. Maybe because you were married by the time John was old enough to ride a horse. You guys came back, eventually, you called that month away, a honeymoon and it was very nice, perfect even. A whole month camping out in a rental cabin, with just Arthur and no one else. You wished you could go back.

Speaking off, “I haven’t seen anyone, no one… in years. I don’t think John or Abigal is alive anymore… I… I tried reaching out. To Sadie too. And Marybeth. No one. No one is left. I know Dutch is dead… John told me about that. He killed em, Bill and Javier. I don’t know where Charles is… I don’t… I…” You felt a hot wave of pain and tears wash over you. You started to sob, feeling utterly and truly alone, “What do I do, Arthur? I can’t keep fighting this fight. I don’t want to die, but don’t want to alone anymore,” You wheezed pretty bad, trying to catch your breath between sobs, “I miss you. What should I do? I… I don’t know what to do without you. I’ve spent all these years living alone, get old and dying. Please tell me I get to see you again,”

It felt like someone was cutting out your heart and throwing it into the dirt. The pain was heavy, it weighed you down, creating a void that couldn’t be filled. You came here with this bad, a little tent and some food, but you came here to say goodbye. To die. Every since Arthur died, all you wanted was to have him back. But no one can change the nature of death, and no one knew Arthur or who he was anymore. You couldn’t stand the idea of being buried in a mass grave or even buried away from Arthur. You were dying, and you had die here.

As morbid as it was, this was your final wish. You had such a ahrd time breath, suffocating on your own tears. You took your wedding band off your finger and pressed it into the dirt beside Arthur’s wedding band. You took of the locket and hung it off his cross, watching it sway back and forth.

This was it, wasn’t it? The end of the road. You hoped that this wouldn’t hurt. You hoped this was the answer you were looking for. Part of you knew that it wasn’t, and most of you knew you were doing this because you just couldn’t keep going. You wanted to die on your own terms, not at the hands of fate or disease.

You laid down beside his grave, staring at the darkness of the approching night sky. A few stars had made there way out. You held tightly to the gun you got your backpack, thinking over and over again if this was right. It didn’t feel right, but your soul craved release. This was awful. Life was awful and unfair. 

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, begging, hoping, praying that you’d see Arthur again. So that who every finds you burries you beside your long dead husband. You were scared, crying, and unsure, but you came so far and you weren’t healthy enough to take the trip back. You’d rather chose this than starver to death up here, or let this cruel disease steal your last breath.

You closed your eyes, and pulled the trigger.


End file.
